Once upon a time, Jaisalmer was a busy pit stop on the Silk Route. Centuries later, the Thar Desert still carries the indelible marks made by merchants and farmers, warriors and musicians
The vast expanse of the unsympathetic yet romantic Thar Desert embodies a sense of the timeless, the feeling that the past is always present. And with good reason. As part of the Silk Road—a 2,000-year-old trading route that connected China to Turkey and Italy via India and central Asia—the Thar was once witness to a mirage more improbable than water: Colourful caravans travelling across the desert expanse laden with spices, silk, tapestries, precious stones and bronze ornaments, led by wealthy merchants from China, the Middle East and even Egypt, who had bet their lives and fortunes on surviving the desert.
The next stop in the trail is Mundhari village, known for its spring wells that have the purest water in Jaisalmer. The source of water remains a mystery; locals insist that a river once flowed through the village. Under the beating sun, a villager lowers a bucket into the well. On tasting the sweet, pristine, deliciously cool water, I felt, for a brief moment, that I had grasped the hands of my ancestors.
This continuity of culture becomes all the more visible as we drive to one of the highest points in the deserts, the Nabh Dungar temple. A sentinel of time and culture, the temple’s peak has a Chinese motif of a lion, a reflection of the trade and exchange of religious ideas that India had with its neighbours, courtesy of the Silk Route. Hawks fly in gyres over the temple, while smaller birds hop on the rocky outcrops. The desert no longer feels that harsh.
(This story appears in the Mar-Apr 2015 issue of ForbesLife India. To visit our Archives, click here.)